Date: Fri, 23 Jul 1999 04:56:50 EDT
From: Erron Wright
Subject: Hand of Fate-Chapter 1
Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction and does not imply anything
about the celebrities in this fantasy. FANTASY!
Hello, I'm Erron, an avid reader and a new author. I believe that
literature is magic. Please allow me to cast my spell for you.
Hand of Fate
His hair smelled like strawberries, like driving by the field
during harvest time. His smile was like a ghost, white and mysterious to
myself, for he wasn't smiling at me. His arms were made of rope that in my
dreams would wrap around me and never let me loose. His hands were the
noose that would hang me, suffocate me, or strangle me and I would still be
happy because it would be him that I would see last before I died.
"Excuse me," someone asked me. . . I snapped out of my trance and looked
into the eyes of beauty itself. "Hello?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I kinda spaced out there for a second. What can I do for
you," I asked trying to find the right vocal pattern that would unlock his
voice encrypted heart shaped vault.
"I was just wondering if you wanted an autograph or somethin, you are at
our meet and greet," he questioned innocently.
"That would be great dude," I said as I handed him my pass.
"Wow, backstage and everything. How did you score these?"
"Accidental button press on my speed dial. I called the radio station by
mistake and ended up winning a contest, low and behold, I'm here," I
laughed trying to ease the nervousness that was about to overflow from my
chest.
"That's cool. Congratulations. So are you a fan?"
"Well to be honest, I really don't know you guys. I mean, yeah, I know
your faces, but your music is a different story," I whispered hoping that
he wouldn't be upset that I wasn't a die hard fanatic.
"That's great. Maybe you'll see something you like tonight," he said as he
winked. I must have turned a new shade of red. Crayola had nothing on me.
"I'll already have," I blurted out not really grasping what I had just
said. When I began to think about it, I think my brain stopped for a brief
moment from embarrassment. I didn't want to be there anymore, I must've
seemed so repulsive to him now.
"I'm glad," he smiled. Did this just happen? Did he just say that to me?
Maybe he didn't understand me. "Well I should get going, we have to be
ready in half an hour and I've spent more time with you than I have with
anybody else. Come backstage afterwards, we'll talk, and I'll introduce
you to the group," he said as he patted my shoulder.
His touch sent shivers to the far reaches of my body that I did not
know existed. I would have fainted, but the smell of strawberries kept me
alert to my surroundings. But I wasn't in a field of fruit; I was in a
field of preteens. Scary thought.
"I'll do that," I responded. And with that he turned away and began
walking towards the backstage area. His movement was languid and watery;
each step seemed to flow into each other. Graceful.
I took my position in the pit and tried my best to make myself
comfortable, with all these little girls pushing I was feeling a little
claustrophobic. But at least I could see; I was at least a foot taller
than all of them. I was a stranger in a strange place; I did not fit in.
The music began and the crowd went wild. I tried really hard to listen to
the music but the yells surrounding me were deafening. It was like double
coupon day at a grocery store. Then they walked out in these amazing
outfits and started the show. My eyes were fixed on him the whole time,
remembering that scent of strawberries that was still vivid in my memory.
I felt a pain in my neck as some girl tried to climb up my body to
be noticed. With a swift elbow to her stomach she hit the ground hard and
was trampled by a few other girls. I laughed. I could be so cynical
sometimes. I directed my gaze back to the stage and looked for the object
of my obsession, he was no where to be found. I kept searching the stage,
none of them were there, but yet I could still hear their voices. All of
the sudden I felt a breeze over my head. There he was, suspended by
invisible cables, singing a song that I knew. It was old. Something about
sailing. I looked up and he smiled at me. I almost fainted.
The show was finally over and the crowd began to disperse. I
decided to walk around a bit and stretch, then headed backstage. I flashed
my pass at a huge black man; they should have named him boulder or
something. This man could be the cause of an eclipse if he was on a
mountain. I meandered around looking at everything. I was soon startled
out of my inspection by someone tugging my arm.
"There you are," he said as he dragged me down a hall, "I've been looking
for you, come on I'll let you meet the guys." We walked into a room that
was filled with four other guys who were all staring at me. "Guys, this
is. . . Oh my gosh, I don't even know your name," he stuttered.
"Erron," I laughed.
"Nice to meet you Erron. Guys this is Erron, he won a contest by accident
and got tickets to our show and a backstage pass. I met him at the meet
and greet, he was very out of place," he joked.
"Most guys are," the blonde one said. His eyes were this color
indescribable to most people.
"I seemed to have noticed that," I said nervously.
"Well nice to meet you Erron, I'm Joey." His hair was sopping wet and yet
still remained that vibrant red it was onstage.
"Hi," I said shaking his hand. They were sweaty and clammy, not my type of
hand, but given the situation, mine would be the same.
"Hi, I'm Chris," he said as he shook my hand. He then proceeded to turn
around and shoved a dog in my face, " And this is Busta."
"Nice to meet you Busta, and you too Chris."
"I'm Lance. Nice to see that you haven't fainted yet," he laughed. His
eyes, oh his eyes. They pulled me in with their almost Asian shaping. But
I would want to drown in those eyes, call me masochistic if you must.
"I'm used to stars, I deal with a lot of them," I said casually. Not
trying to be snobbish.
"Really? What do you do," Lance asked with his eyebrow raised.
"Well I'm. . ."
"And this is my best friend JC," he said interrupting my conversation with
Lance.
"Nice to meet you Erron. Justin talked a lot about you before the show.
The funny thing is that he kept saying "this guy" because he didn't know
your name," he shook my hand. Not firmly and not to soft while I blushed.
"Did he," I said raising my eyebrow and staring in Justin's direction. He
blushed but kept smiling, "All good I hope."
"Of course."
"So as I was saying," Lance butted in, "Before we were so rudely
interrupted. What do you do?"
"I'm an author."
"Really?!? That is so exciting. But you seem so young. How old are you,"
Justin asked.
"Seventeen. Yesterday was my birthday. This is a present to myself."
"Well happy birthday," JC said as he patted my back, "But doesn't school
interfere with your writing?"
"I finished school three years ago," I said calmly, again not trying to
sound conceited.
"Are you a genius or something," Chris questioned while he played with his
puppy.
"No. I had a private tutor, so I would have more time to write."
"So your parents must be loaded, huh," Joey joked.
"Actually my parents were killed when I was fourteen. I live alone."
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Joey apologized.
"Don't worry about it. I loved my parents and have learned to cope with
their deaths. I know that where ever they are, they are looking out for
me," I smiled.
"You live by yourself? Alone? In a house? Isn't that illegal," Justin
questioned concernedly. The way his eyebrow arched when he was worried was
enough to melt my heart.
"Well the courts believe that there is a guardian who lives with me, but he
has also died," I said.
"So much has happened to you. I'd love to hear all about it. I'm sure the
guys would too. Would you like to come back to our hotel with us," Justin
inquired was he rubbed my arm.
"I guess that would be alright. Where are you guys staying, I'll meet you
there. My car is still out in the parking lot."
"What do you drive," Chris asked excitedly.
"A Lincoln Navigator," I mumbled.
"Hello! That is luxury," JC joked.
"How about you take us to our hotel so we don't have to engage in crowd
control. And that way you don't have to drive alone," Lance suggested.
All the guys hurriedly agreed.
"Why not," I said, "Follow me."
The guys went and checked in with their driver and told them what
was happening. They followed me out to my car, which was now the only
vehicle left in the whole parking lot. "Nice wheels," Justin said,
"SHOTGUN!" He made a mad dash for the front passenger side. No one
argued. We all hopped in and after a few oohs and ahhs over the features I
had installed, we left.
"Do you guys mind if I stop by my house first before we go to the hotel. I
believe I left the iron on. And besides it's on the way," They all agreed.
We pulled up into the driveway of a four-story apartment building. I
parked in the small garage next to about five cars. We walked into the
elevator and Chris jumped in front of the buttons.
"Which floor are you on," he asked in a bellhop sort of way.
"Press any floor you want. The building is mine," I chuckled to myself.
Their eyes bugged out of their sockets.
"WHAT?!?" It was perfect unison.
"I own the building. I'll explain later. First floor is the main living
area. The second floor is the kitchen and dining halls. Third floor
contains the sleeping quarters. And the fourth floor is my office and
writing area."
"No way. How did you get all this? I mean you're only seventeen," Justin
asked incredulously.
"Long story which I'll share with you guys when we get back to the hotel,"
I said with a smile.
"You know Erron, since you have all the space, we could just chill here,"
JC suggested. Everyone readily agreed, not wanting to fight the mob at the
hotel.
"If that's fine with whoever is in charge of you guys, I'm fine with it."
My insides screamed in revelry. My feet wanted to dance a jig, and I
didn't even know how to jig. Lance pulled out a phone and began talking to
someone. Soon after he hung up.
"Yeah we can stay. Now would you mind getting this thing moving, I'm
getting claustrophobic," he said. We all laughed. I pushed the second
floor button.
"I take it you guys are hungry? Well I am if you're not," I laughed.
"Joey's always hungry," Chris joked. We all laughed as Joey whacked Chris
on the back of the head. The elevator pinged and the doors opened we
exited and stepped into the main galley.
"Whoa! This place is awesome. How many dining rooms are on this floor,"
JC asked.
"Well this is the main dining. And there are two smaller dining rooms for
luncheons and social occasions. The kitchen is right through there," I
pointed to a set of silver galley double doors. Joey ran into them and
began to run around looking for food. "Joey the foods are on this side
excluding the deserts. They are in the freezer over there." We all found
something to eat. Justin decided on strawberries. What a concept. I took
them into a smaller dining room and we began to eat.
"So tell us your story," Justin said enthusiastically.
"Are you sure? It is kinda long," I said.
"Don't worry about it. We have the time," JC chimed in.
"Okay. Well when I was fourteen my parents decided to take me on a
vacation to Hong Kong. They were both corporate executives for a
production company, so they had the money to finance the trip. While we
were there we decided to take a scenic tour through the historic, as well
as political, areas of Hong Kong. Keep in mind that this was during the
time that Hong Kong was still in political turmoil over Britain giving the
colony back to China. While we were viewing a courthouse a group of free
radicals decided to go on a shooting spree. They shot my parents first
because my father was British and my mother looked it. I was left there
crying over my wounded parents who were both on the brink of death. My
father grabbed my hand and told me to be strong and to pursue what would
make me happy. He said that would make him proud. My mother spoke softly
but still spoke. She said that they loved me and would always be there to
protect me. She told me not to let this affect my life, and never lose
sight of personal success and happiness. I kissed them both and shortly
after my father died in my arms. My mother remained with me for a few more
minutes, but soon drifted off into a never-ending sleep. I must have
stayed like that, with them in my arms for about four hours until the
officials came and cleared the area. I was sent back to live with my aunt
and uncle in Nebraska," I paused for a brief moment and looked up at them.
They all had tears welled up in their eyes, but Justin was the most shook
up and was crying ceaselessly. I smiled at him and handed him a tissue and
continued, "So I started at a new school where nobody knew me, or what I
went through. Anonymity helped me through a lot. I didn't know how to
express my feelings until my English teacher encouraged me to write them
down. I began with poetry and short stories. And then moved up to novels
and manuscripts. I wrote so much that I lost track of my schoolwork and my
grades began to slip. Luckily at that time my teacher, John, sent one of
my manuscripts to a publishing company who quickly agreed to print it
because of my age and the thoughts I expressed. My book hit the bestseller
list and it skyrocketed me into the "business". John asked my aunt and
uncle if he could assume guardianship of me because I was asked to move out
to San Francisco. They agree. Not very willingly, but they remembered
that my parents wanted me to follow my dreams. So John brought me here and
I started writing on a regular basis. We hired a private tutor to teach me
and I was finished with high school in about a year. I threw myself into
my writing and John was there to back me up whenever I need help. I
dedicated a book to him to show my appreciation. It turned out to be my
best seller. It was all about a man who cared for someone he didn't know
just because she reminded him of his mother. Well after the success of the
book died down a little I was hit with another surprise. John was
diagnosed with cancer. And before we could do very much about it, it
spread. John was a firm believer in letting nature take its course so he
forbade me to help him. I spent about a month taking care of him and then
one day he began to cough violently. I rushed for the phones but he told
me not to call anybody. I ran to him and held him up. He told me that the
past year and a half he had spent raising me were the happiest time he had
had in his life. He said I had a gift with words and to never give that
gift up. I told him I loved him and hugged him before he died. After his
funeral I was about to head back to Nebraska when I was summoned to the
reading of John's will. It turned out that John was rich beyond belief.
His parents were both scientists and had discovered something rare and they
left their fortune to him, which he passed to me. I was the sole inheritor
of 3.9 billion dollars. I could not believe John never told me about that.
But I knew that he was just trying to protect me from the corrupting power
of money. After that I decided not to inform my aunt and uncle that John
had died and through intelligently made purchases through my agent, I
bought this building and renovated it. I donated a lot of the money to
charity, but mostly to cancer research. And never stopped writing. I knew
that my parents, and John, would not want me to give up on it. And that's
where I'm at today," I said as I looked up to see their reactions.
They looked at me intensely, each seeming to be searching for the
right words to say. "That is more life I think I'll ever live," Joey said.
"How do you keep motivated," Lance questioned as he wiped a few tears from
his eyes.
"I just remember that I'm not only doing this for myself, but for my loved
ones that I've lost."
"You are probably the strongest person I've ever met," Chris said.
"I agree," JC added as he patted my shoulder.
"Thanks guys." I smiled at them both and then averted my eyes to a crying
Justin who sat across from me. "Justin are you alright?"
"Yah. It's just that I don't know how I would live if I ever went through
all of that. Do you have someone to help you through it? I don't think I
could do it all by myself," he said still crying.
"Nah, I've pretty much trekked this journey alone. Nobody has ever really
cared about what I've gone through, just about my money. Truthfully,
excluding a few times, I usually forget that I have money. My writing
keeps me sane and far away from my troubles. It's all I have." Justin got
up and walked up behind me.
"Well you have us now," he said as he put his hands on my shoulders.
"You sure do," Lance said as he grabbed my hand. JC did the same.
"Thanks guys, I guess it would be great is I had friends. I haven't really
communicated with anything but my agent and the voices in my head lately,"
I laughed. They found that amusing and chuckled along with me.
I was in for the ride of my life and I knew it. I finally had friends that
cared about me. And I liked them. I didn't have to put up a front or try
to avoid them. I could be myself and they'd appreciate me for that. As I
thought about my new situation, the smell of strawberries again permeated
my nostrils. I drifted off into deep thought. . . Happiness for once.
Fate had dealt me a good hand, and I was gonna play my heart out.
TBC
Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Comments,
suggestions, and criticisms are welcome. Email me at
erronifyte@hotmail.com. Have a good one.